Rewriting Destiny
by candyflossquills
Summary: Time-Turner AU. After Voldemort wins, Hermione attempts to travel back in time to defeat Voldemort before he rises to power. Unfortunately, she only manages to go back twenty years before her Time-Turner breaks. [Hermione Granger x Sirius Black]
1. Prologue

A/N: Jumping on the bandwagon here, this is a Time-Turner Hermione/Sirius fic. I'm relatively new to this site, and this is my first time publishing one of my stories, so bear with me here!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

No! No, no, no, no, no, no, _no!_ A spasm of pain flitted through her body, and Hermione gritted her teeth throughout the spell, hoping it was just a nightmare-ish scene she had envisioned as a consequence from her torture. But when her vision cleared, nothing had changed.

"Bow before your ruler," the Dark Lord cackled victoriously, standing at the center of the Great Hall. Shafts of moonlight from the ceiling above illuminated his skeletal serpentine features. A dead body was laid at his feet, a small, youthful boy with unruly, jet-black hair sticking in different directions. Hermione knew that if his eyes were open, they would have been a brilliant emerald green. The boy's expression was peaceful, not at all like the pain-filled anguish he constantly wore during his life. _He looks so young_ , Hermione mused, for truly, he looked nothing like the seventeen-year-old boy he was, but could have been still in his Fifth Year, or younger still.

His supporters, the remaining members of the Death Eaters, coalesced around him. Once weary and on the brink of defeat, they were now drawing strength from their master's triumph. In fact, the black robed figures were positively glowing, vibrating with a euphoric aura.

Hermione looked around, her eyes scanning past the fallen friends and family members for her remaining resistance following. Neville was livid with anger, Ginny looked half dead herself as her eyes lingered on Harry's fallen form, and Ron, Ron was running toward the Death Eaters, wand in hand and eyes flashing. As if on cue, the rest of the resistance charged into battle once more. Neville had drawn the Sword of Gryffindor, beheading Nagini with a rousing battle cry, "For Harry Potter!"

But somehow, despite the hope coursing through her veins, Hermione knew they had lost.

" _Portus_ ," she whispered, charming a scrap of cloth into a Portkey. She felt the familiar tug, but as she disappeared, her eyes found Ron and her knees buckled. As she was suddenly pulled away from the ruins of Hogwarts, the image of his fallen form was seared into her mind. Appeared at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Hermione blinked back tears, taking a few shuddering breaths to calm herself. With trembling hands, she rummaged through her small beaded bag.

Finally, she pulled out a golden necklace she hadn't used since her Third Year. Hanging it around her neck, she proceeded to spin the hourglass. Hermione heard twigs snap, and she panicked.

"Hermione!" It was a familiar voice. Hermione whirled around, her eyes taking in the figure of a young woman, whose age was younger than her looks. The figure had long reddish-orange hair and freckles that of a Weasley, and her blue eyes had a haunted look no sixteen-year-old should have.

Hermione relaxed, relieved. "Ginny!"

Ginny's eyes fell on the golden Time-Turner hung around Hermione's neck. "No! Don't you know what this will do?"

"I have to! It'll save Harry. It'll save us all!"

Ginny's eyes met Hermione's determined gaze. "Is it worth the risk?"

"Yes."

Hope filled Ginny's eyes and she nodded with resigned understanding. "Good luck, Hermione." She stepped forward to embrace Hermione with a tight hug. "May we meet again."

Hermione already felt herself vanishing. Her eyes widened in alarm. She hadn't spun the hourglass for enough times to go back to 1930! Desperately, she tried to spin the Time-Turner again, but she couldn't feel her fingers anymore. Hermione felt a sinking feeling of despair and failure as she disappeared. She hoped she was still going to be able to travel far enough to kill Tom Riddle before he rose to power.


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: Surprise! This came out earlier than I expected.

Disclaimer: It's not mine.

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

Hermione tumbled onto the soft grass. "Ow," she muttered, rubbing a sore spot on the top of her head. Blood trickled from her palms; there was broken glass imbedded into her skin. Blinking at the bright sunlight, she sat up, trying to determine her location. Was she still on Hogwarts grounds? She was near the edge of a forest, but was it the Forbidden Forest? Hermione couldn't tell; it was all too different.

"Students aren't supposed to be in the Forbidden Forest."

The voice was low, a boy's drawl. Hermione supposed it was a nice voice, as voices go, but the tone was ghastly. It reminded her of Draco Malfoy, cocky and arrogant.

Narrowing her eyes, she shifted her gaze up toward the left. He had a tall figure, thin and lanky. His dark hair was long and shadowed his face as he leaned down towards her sprawled figure.

 _How rude,_ Hermione thought, _acting like a prefect but refusing to be polite and offer a hand!_ She struggled a little to pull herself to her feet, swaying slightly as darkness threatened to cloud her vision. Shaking away fatigue and unconsciousness, Hermione, with her eyes still glaring at the boy, opened her mouth to speak. "What day is it?" She slurred, her jaw moving too slowly to be coherent. A flash of pain coursed through her as her limbs seized up. Then she promptly fell unconscious.

"Who is she?"

Hermione heard whispers surrounding her. She blinked hazily, her vision swimming as she tried to make out the four figures around her.

"She's awake!"

One of the boys nudged the one closest to her. "Say something!" he hissed.

The boy closest to her fidgeted uncomfortably. "Er…hi."

The other boys sniggered.

Hermione's vision cleared. It was that boy again. He looked somehow, familiar. Now that his long, black hair wasn't shielding his face, she could see that he was quite handsome. He had lovely dark grey eyes, darker than Malfoy's silvery eyes. His hair, although Hermione was never really one for someone with long hair, complemented his features. He had the slight upturned nose and high cheekbones of an aristocrat, reminding her very much of a debonair Malfoy. "Who?" She managed to croak. Something about him made Hermione suddenly aware of how terrible she probably looked. She caught herself almost starting to pat down her bushy hair.

As if on cue, the matron bustled by. "Shoo!" she told the quartet. The boy grey-eyed boy gave Hermione another glance, then followed his friends out the door.

"Madame Pomfrey!?" Hermione asked incredulously. This wasn't right. If she had managed to travel back to 1930, the matron in her Hogwarts days shouldn't even be alive!

The matron gave her a startled look. "Yes, dear?" She looked much younger. Her hair was a dark brown color with streaks of grey.

"C-Can I have a newspaper?" Now that her mind was fully functioning again, Hermione realized it would be best to covertly figure out the date. Any other and more blunt way would cause others to think she was mad.

Madame Pomfrey gave her a long look, "yes, my dear. Once you're healed, I believe the Headmaster will be speaking to you."

"I-I'm fine! Truly!"

Madame Pomfrey clucked her tongue. "I don't know where you've been or what happened, but you came here with multiple cuts, bruises, and dozens of curses riddled all over your body. You are a very brave young lady, but you are _not_ fine."

Biting her lip, Hermione thus contented herself with the Daily Prophet. The first thing to catch her eye was the date: 2 September 1977.

 _It's only been twenty years._ Hermione thought miserably. Hands scrabbling for the chain of her Time-Turner, Hermione pulled it out from under her robes, the golden chain gleaming in the light.

 _No!_ Hermione's eyes widened in a mixture of shock, horror, and disbelief. For at the end of the chain, where the pendant hung, was a broken hourglass, the sand completely gone.

 _It's only been twenty years,_ Hermione realized. Her thoughts were going a mile a minute. _If I manage to defeat Voldemort, I'll be able to see Harry again. I'd be able to consult a wiser Dumbledore this way for aid in her mission!_ Hope warmed against her skin. "Madame Pomfrey?"

"Yes, dear?"

"I'd like to see Professor Dumbledore now."

Pursing her lips, the matron eyed Hermione warily, "I'll send for him, but you must rest."

Satisfied, Hermione sat quietly in the bed, reading the rest of the newspaper. She got so immersed in the paper that she hadn't realized Albus Dumbledore had arrived until he had cleared his throat softly.

"I'm so sorry, Professor!" Hermione gasped, eyes wide.

Professor Dumbledore merely smiled gently, his blue eyes twinkling. Hermione felt something akin to nostalgia prick tears in her eyes. It had been so long since the Headmaster had given her one of his amused smiles. He was still quite old, though his beard was shorter and he had less wrinkles than during her time.

"Now then, I feel you have much to tell me."

Hermione smiled, "My name is Hermione Granger. I was born in 1979, and I will be turning eighteen years old this month on the 19th of September…" As she told her story, Dumbledore became increasingly intrigued. He made few comments, although most of them were small gasps of realization as Hermione explained much of Tom Riddle's actions.

"Thank you, Miss Granger," Dumbledore patted her hand once she had finished. "You are a very brave young woman."

"I need to stop Vol—erm—You-Know-Who," Hermione corrected herself, cautious of a potential taboo on his name. She felt a spasm of pain flicker through her body as her mind unwittingly recalled her torture, the consequences of the trio's mistake. "I was wondering if I could stay for the term, Professor? I missed my Seventh Year when I went searching for the Horcruxes."

"Of course, Miss Granger. You have been most helpful." Dumbledore gave her a searching look. "I don't suppose you—"

"I want to help." Hermione confirmed. "I have a few basilisk fangs in my bag, but I believe it would be helpful to imbue the Sword of Gryffindor with basilisk venom as well."

"Well spoken, Miss Granger. I'll have the basilisk removed from Hogwarts."

"Also, Professor," Hermione asked timidly. "I know I'm a little young, but I am of age now, and I was wondering," she swallowed nervously, "I was wondering if I could join the Order?"

Dumbledore beamed. "The Order would be honored to have you as a member." With one last knowing look, he swept out of the room. "I'll always be available if you need help." He said before he left the Hospital Wing.

Filled with a hope she had not felt ever since Harry's death, Hermione grinned. Immediately, she began making plans for the new term and inadvertently, slowly began falling asleep…

-o-o-o-

On Saturday, Madame Pomfrey decreed her well and released her from the Hospital Wing. Dumbledore had granted her a Hogsmeade weekend trip for supplies, along with a purse full of galleons. Upon asking for any helpful advice and items she should purchase, he said sagely, "Honeydukes chocolates. Although Muggle lemon drops and sherbet lemons are a particular favorite."

She first stopped by Ollivander's for a new wand. Somehow, when she traveled back in time, a few items disappeared from her beaded bag. Noticeably, all the items that didn't belong to her disappeared. She couldn't find Harry's invisibility cloak, the Marauders' Map, or Bellatrix's wand, just to name a few. Hermione supposed the items had gone back to their owners of this time period. Not that Hermione wished to keep the bloody wand. Honestly, she was relieved she did not have to use it again.

"Good morning!" A cheerful wizard called within the depths of the narrow store, which bore an uncanny resemblance to the shop on Diagon Alley. "Looking for a new wand?"

"Yes," Hermione smiled back. "My old wand was a ten-and-three-quarters vine wood with a dragon heartstring core, if that helps."

"That does," the storekeeper nodded. "Witches and wizards often use wands that correspond to their personalities. So when a witch or wizard needs a new wand, they're rarely vastly different than their previous wand." He pulled out a thin narrow box. "Let's see, poplar and dragon heartstring, ten-and-a-half inch, pliable."

Hermione grasped it, but the storekeeper immediately whisked it back away. The same happened with the maple wand and the beech wand. Finally, after many tries, evident with the scatter of wand boxes haphazardly strewn around the store, the storekeeper dug out a box from the backroom. "I was planning to send this one to Diagon Alley, seeing as it has been here for so long and no one claimed it." Flipping open the lid, Hermione gasped. It was her wand.

"Vine and dragon heartstring, ten-and-three-quarters inch, reasonably springy," she whispered along with the storekeeper. Eagerly, she took the wand, feeling the familiar warmth travelling up her arm. The wand let loose an impressive display of fireworks, even spelling out her name. Beaming, she bought it from the storekeeper, who had stated that he had never seen such a spectacular union of witch and wand.

Feeling much better now that she had her wand back, Hermione got her robes fitted at Gladrags, bought a cauldron at Ceridwen's Cauldrons, bought a few potion supplies from Dogweed & Deathcap and JP Pippins and Magic Neep, eyed some fancy-looking quills at Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, and headed to Tomes and Scrolls for her spell books. Tomes and Scrolls had a smaller range of books than that of Flourish and Blotts. Still, Hermione was able to find books that were either in the Restricted Section or banned in her years at Hogwarts. Although Hermione had promised herself that she would save her galleons for Horcrux hunting, she couldn't resist purchasing a copy of _Hogwarts, A History_ , in addition to the required spell books for Seventh Year, and a copy of _Moste Potente Potions_ , a book she felt would come quite in handy. Who knows, maybe she would need to brew some Polyjuice Potion again.

Bags bulging with school supplies, Hermione made her way back to Hogwarts castle, stopping by Honeydukes to purchase a box of Honeydukes chocolates. Even if Dumbledore hadn't mentioned it, Hermione had a weakness for chocolate. On her way to Gryffindor Tower, she stumbled into a tall figure.

"Need a hand, love?" It was that boy again. The one with the dark grey eyes.

"No, thank you," Hermione said primly.

"I'm Sirius, by the way, Sirius Black." He was jogging to catch up.

"Hermione Granger," she replied automatically. Then his words processed in her brain and Hermione's eyes widened, stopping abruptly. Sirius accidentally ran into her. The both of them tumbled onto the ground, bags strewn haphazardly around the hallway floors.

"Well, isn't this nice?" Sirius waggled his eyebrows lasciviously, his chest rumbling with laughter as Hermione flushed pink. In their fall, Hermione had landed on top of him, her head plastered against his chest. Scrambling to get off of him with, Hermione quickly gathered her things and fled to Gryffindor Tower.


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: I'm back! Thanks for reading, and review please! :)

Disclaimer: Some pieces are lifted from J. K. Rowling's _Deathly Hallows._ I own nothing.

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

Hermione took deep breaths, trying to calm her erratic heartbeat. _It's just from running,_ she told herself. She didn't know why she felt the need to reassure herself, but the thought made her feel a bit more in control. She was not ready to handle this. Merlin, how had she forgotten that she was now in the same year as the Marauders? She raised her hands to her face, feeling the warmth from her flushed cheeks seep into her fingers. Bloody hell, she was blushing like a schoolgirl.

How had it come to this? No less than twenty-four hours after Ron's death, Hermione was reduced to an average, hormonal adolescent over Sirius-bloody-Black! She thought she always looked at him as an uncle figure, but now... Hermione pictured his youthful face and turned pink again.

Steeling her nerves, Hermione took in another deep breath, closing her eyes to purge him from her thoughts. _Look on the bright side,_ she thought to herself optimistically, _I have time to befriend the Marauders and change their fates._ She felt hope flutter in her chest again.

Dumping her things onto a spare bed in the girls' dormitory, Hermione wished she had thought to purchase a multi-compartment trunk at Dervish and Banges. _Oh well,_ Hermione sighed, _I'll have to get one tomorrow._ She didn't even think of trying to venture back out of Hogwarts, not when Sirius was around.

Too immersed in unpacking her things, Hermione failed to notice a figure enter the room.

"Hi!"

Hermione jumped, her wand immediately pulled out and pointed at the stranger. The girl was in her year, with a beautiful heart-shaped face and auburn hair. Familiar brilliant green eyes stared at her curiously. It was Lily Evans. Harry's mum.

Hermione lowered her wand. "Sorry," Hermione plastered a smile on her face and stuck out her hand. "I'm Hermione Granger."

Lily smiled cheerfully, "No, it's my fault for scaring you. I would have done the same. I'm Lily Evans." She was just as bubbly and vivacious as everyone had said about the green-eyed witch. Hermione instantly took a liking to her. "So what brings you to Hogwarts? You're the transfer student, aren't you?"

"I…" Hermione had forgotten about her cover story. Quickly spinning an alibi, Hermione cleared her throat, "Erm, yes. I transferred here from Beauxbatons. My family thought it would be better for me to come to school here at Hogwarts, since it's much safer with Professor Dumbledore as Headmaster."

"James said that you looked like death itself when you arrived."

"I…" Hermione swallowed, tears pricking her eyes as she thought of her obliviated parents. "My parents are gone. Killed by the Death Eaters in an attack, I mean. I barely made it out alive." _Some of the best lies are the ones closest to the truth._

"That's awful," Lily patted Hermione's arm comfortingly. "You must be terrified."

Hermione thought of her mission. It had taken her a whole year to dispose of the Horcruxes, and that was with the help of Harry and Ron. And now she must also somehow defeat Voldemort as well. Even with the support of the Order of the Phoenix, it was still a herculean task. _You have no idea._

-o-o-o-

"I'm going to ask you again! Where did you get this sword? Where?"

Hermione writhed under the Cruciatus Curse, her throat raw from screaming. She felt a searing pain all over her body, worse than bathing in flaming acid. Occlumency! Textbooks had written about potentially resisting pain using Occlumency. Hermione tried to close her mind.

" _Crucio_!"

"We found it—we found it!" Hermione screamed again. "PLEASE!" She didn't know what she was begging for.

" _Crucio_!" Bellatrix shouted again. She was deranged, her hooded eyes livid with fear and rage. "You're lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth! Tell the truth!"

"It isn't the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy!" What sliver of relief from her weak attempt at shielding her mind was just enough to find a lie.

"Lies!" Bellatrix shrieked once more. Hermione felt white-hot pain, in addition to the all-consuming pain from the Cruciatus Curse, on her left arm.

Hands grabbed her shoulders, shaking her.

"Wake up! Hermione!"

Hermione took in a long shuddering breath, her right hand immediately finding the scarred lettering on her left arm. Blinking away the wetness that had somehow gathered in her eyes, she found Lily's worried expression in the dark.

"You were screaming," Lily said, eyes wide. "I could hear you all the way from my Head Girl rooms."

"And thrashing," came a new voice. Her arms were crossed and she had a cranky but concerned expression on her face. Her blonde hair was mussed from sleep and her expression was somewhat sour, but Hermione could see that she was pretty.

"I-I'm sorry." Hermione apologized softly. Her throat ached and her words sounded hoarse, even to her own ears. She rubbed her throat, her fingers lingering on the thin, white scar on her neck. She shuddered; Hermione could almost feel the silver knife pressed against her throat, beads of blood dripping down her collarbone.

"You woke us all up," grumped the blonde witch. "I wouldn't be surprised if the whole school heard."

"Marlene," admonished Lily. Her arms wrapped around Hermione's trembling frame.

"Sorry," Marlene said sheepishly. "You know how I get when I wake up too early."

"Maybe I should go to the Hospital Wing for some Dreamless Sleep Potion?" Hermione suggested.

Marlene looked cheered by the proposal, "I'll go with you!"

"I'm Head Girl, so it won't be too bad if you get caught," Lily added.

Thus the trio made their way out of Gryffindor Tower and headed toward the Hospital Wing. Madame Pomfrey, although she was disgruntled from being abruptly awoken from sleep, gave Hermione enough vials to last a week, "If the nightmares continue, come see me."

The Marauders were waiting anxiously in the Gryffindor Common Room for answers by the time the three girls came back. Well, James and Sirius were; Remus was lightly dozing on the armchair. Peter was nowhere in sight. _Thankfully,_ Hermione added, deep in the recesses of her mind. After her terrifying memory, Hermione wasn't sure she was ready to look Wormtail in the eye, even if he unwittingly _did_ save Harry and Ron.

"What happened?" Sirius was the first to ask.

"I had a nightmare," Hermione responded, eyes averted from his handsome face. "I'm sorry for waking you all up."

"Did you go see Madame Pomfrey for Dreamless Sleep?"

"Yes."

There was a silence. Hermione saw Marlene sniff haughtily at Sirius—or was it resentfully?—and disappear back to the Girls' Dormitory, and Lily was deep in conversation with James. Hermione dared to sneak a glance at Sirius.

"I'm sorry about earlier," Sirius scratched his head. Why did he look so adorable with his hair ruffled?

"No, it was my fault. I'm sorry."

Sirius gave her a lopsided smile, causing Hermione's heart to skip a beat. "See you in the morning?"

Hermione tentatively returned the smile, "Goodnight, Sirius."

"Goodnight, Hermione."

As Hermione slowly made her way up the stairs to the girls' dormitory, she heard the boys start to whisper.

"I wonder what happened to her."

"Torture," came James' voice. "Lils told me."

"Death Eaters?"

"Killed her parents. That's why she's here; it's safer."

There was a snort of derision.

"Don't be like that, Remus…" The voices faded away, turning to new topics. With a sad smile, Hermione tiptoed back to her four-poster bed and fell into a deep and thankfully dreamless sleep.

Hermione scampered out of bed, quick and early. The other girls were still snoozing, and Hermione let them sleep for a few more hours. She had, after all, woken them up in the middle of the night.

-o-o-o-

The Great Hall was mostly empty, although hot steaming platters of food were already laid out on the tables. Hermione found herself seated across from Remus, who nodded in greeting.

"You're up early."

"Couldn't sleep."

Hermione nodded understandingly. She grabbed a scone and started to butter it. "I'm Hermione Granger."

"Remus Lupin."

"I'm sorry for waking you up last night."

"It's fine. I'm a light sleeper."

Before she could get in another word, James and Sirius came trudging into the Great Hall.

"Morning Moony," Sirius yawned, his hair sweetly rumpled from sleep. "Morning Hermione."

"Good morning Padfoot, Prongs," Remus replied, ever the polite and mild-mannered one.

"Good morning," Hermione smiled sheepishly. "Sorry again, for last night."

James looked at her sympathetically. "It's not your fault."

"Say, Remus," Sirius said. "Have you done your Transfiguration essay?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow, "You didn't do your summer homework?"

Sirius gave her a mock-patronizing look. "No self-respecting slacker would ever do their homework until the last minute!"

The three of them laughed, and Hermione rolled her eyes in amusement. It was like Harry and Ron all over again. _Harry and Ron…_ Hermione sobered, tears pooling in her eyes. Blinking them away, Hermione took a deep breath, swallowing the lump in her throat. She plastered a smile on her face, "Well, I'm off to Hogsmeade; I forgot some things yesterday. Is there anything you all would like?"

Two identical mischievous grins immediately spread on James and Sirius' faces. But before either of them could get in a word, Remus sighed, " _No,_ thank you, Hermione," he said pointedly to his fellow Marauders.

"Re-mus!" They whined childishly, drawing out their friend's name.

Chuckling to herself, Hermione shook her head and strode out of the Great Hall.


	4. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks for being patient y'all!

Disclaimer: Some parts are lifted from J. K. Rowling's _Half Blood Prince._ I don't own anything.

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

"What's your first class?" Lily asked. They had finally received their schedules. Hermione felt a twinge of guilt. The professors probably had to reorganize everyone's timetables just to fit her in at the last minute.

"Double Advanced Potions with the Slytherins," Hermione read from her timetable. "You?"

"Me too!" Lily exclaimed. "Maybe we could—"

"Oi, Lily!" James called over from his side of the table. "Wanna be partners for Potions?" He shot her a winning smile.

Lily blushed. "Sure!" Turning back to Hermione, her eyes immediately widened. "Oh! I'm so sorry!"

Hermione grinned good-naturedly. "Don't worry. I'm sure I could be partners with…" She trailed off. Remus was already partnering with Sirius, and Peter… Hermione gave a shiver of disgust. She still could barely contain the feelings of hatred and revulsion every time she looked at the small, watery-eyed boy. It was too late to attempt to change him; Hermione could almost see the selfishness rolling off the boy in waves. He caught her gaze and smiled hopefully. Hermione immediately turned back to Lily. "I'll find someone," she reassured the redhead.

As the two girls trooped down to the dungeons for their class, Hermione felt eyes watching her. Glancing over her shoulder quickly, Hermione spied a tall, lanky boy with dark black hair hanging limply over his face. Snape.

"Who are you looking at?" Lily asked. She turned and caught Hermione's line of sight. "Oh." Her tone had dropped significantly, and Hermione heard the contempt lacing her tone.

"That's Severus Snape," Lily's lip curled. "He's just another no-good, Slytherin, pureblood fanatic, who's obsessed with the Dark Arts."

"Is he…?"

"A Death Eater? Probably." Lily had no room for forgiveness in her tone. "Even though he seems nice and awkward, he's just like the rest of them."

"That sounds a bit harsh."

"Well, he is!" Lily's eyes took on a wounded expression. "I knew him before. He used to be my best friend." Lily's eyes met Hermione's imploringly, "You have to understand. I tried so hard to get him to change, but he kept hanging out with Avery and Mulciber and all those evil Death Eaters. I guess it rubbed off, and he stopped seeing me as a friend and more like the scum they make us out for."

"I'm sorry."

They had reached the Potions classroom. For a wild moment, despite having just been talking about the young Severus Snape, Hermione expected to see Professor Snape's classroom, full of strange bubbling potions and jars of pickled animals. The walls would be crammed full of potion books and books on the many uses of potion ingredients and the like, and the blackboard would have his neat handwriting scrawled over it, all capital letters.

But instead, the classroom she was greeted to was much different. There still were the shelves full of glass jars with potion ingredients, but there were four large cauldrons already filled with bubbling and steaming potions, a collection of fine wines, colorful and cheerful posters on the walls, and there were a significantly smaller collection of books. In fact, upon entering the classroom, Hermione was given a serious case of déjà vu.

"Good morning, class!" Horace Slughorn boomed with a jolly smile. He was still as rotund as ever, wearing his signature tweed robes with its brass buttons threatening to pop off. He had less wrinkles and his hair was a grey color with streaks of straw blonde.

"Now then," said Slughorn, inflating his already bulging chest, the poor buttons on his waistcoat straining to stay attached as he gestured to the four cauldrons on display. "I've prepared a few potions for you to have a look at. These are the main potions you will be studying this year. By the end of the term, I expect you all to be able to brew every one of these complex potions." He smiled genially. "Now, I'm sure each of you have already heard of these potions, which of you can tell me about this first one here?" He gestured to a cauldron with what seemed to be ordinary, boiling water.

Hermione's hand shot up immediately, her mouth opening as she prepared to speak.

"It's Veritaserum, sir," drawled out her partner. Hermione gave a quick double-take as she realized she was not alone. It was Snape.

Hermione's competitiveness got the best of her as she spoke up, "It's a colorless, odorless potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth."

"Excellent!" Slughorn praised them both.

But it had seemed like Snape was not finished either, "Despite being one of the strongest Truth Potions in the world, very talented Occlumens can be able to lessen the effects."

Hermione gave him a sidelong look, her mind whirling as she processed his words. Was he an Occlumens already?

"Very good, very good!" said Slughorn happily. "Now," he continued, oblivious to the two's competitive tension. He pointed out another cauldron, the contents looking like a mud-like substance that was slowly boiling. One of the large bubbles popped on the surface.

Hermione's hand was fastest once more. "It's Polyjuice Potion, sir," she said before Snape could interrupt her.

"Excellent, excellent! Now, this one here… Yes, my dear?" said Slughorn, now looking bemused as Hermione's hand punched the air again.

"It's Amortentia," Snape lazily cut in. Hermione glowered at him, to which he responded with a self-satisfied smirk.

"It is indeed. It seems almost foolish to ask," said Slughorn, who was looking mightily impressed by the both of them, "but I assume you two know what it does?"

"It's the most powerful love potion in the world!" said Hermione quickly.

"Quite right! You recognized it, I suppose, by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen?"

"And the steam rising in characteristic spirals," Snape added, "and it's supposed to smell differently to each of us, according to what attracts us."

"Wonderful!" Slughorn beamed. "Take twenty points each to Gryffindor and Slytherin!"

"The last cauldron is Felix Felicis," Snape drawled. "It's a highly dangerous potion to take in large quantities, but it makes the drinker lucky."

"Indeed, indeed," Slughorn looked slightly putout. Hermione nearly sniggered when she recalled his dramatic effect when he so purposefully forgot about the golden potion back in her Sixth Year. "It takes six months to brew—"

"Only if you're an average potion master," Snape interrupted bluntly. The class tittered.

Slughorn only gave him a patient smile, "Yes, yes. It is also banned from many sporting events and other competitions." Giving the class a meaningful look, he said, "Now, the partners who can produce the best Elixir to Induce Euphoria will receive a small dose of Felix Felicis! Begin!"

Hermione had to give it to him. Although his teaching style was childish, he did know how to challenge students. Brewing a complex potion was hard enough, but to do it in pairs?

She slowly began to make her way towards the potions cupboard, when suddenly she caught the scent of the Amortentia. She closed her eyes, a tranquil smile on her face as she inhaled the familiar scents she so loved: freshly mown grass, new parchment, and… Tears pricked her eyes as she inhaled a faint scent of Ron's hair. Why was it so faint? She inhaled longer and deeper this time, trying to draw in his smell, but it was somehow not has pungent as it was in her sixth year…

"Now if you weren't busy woolgathering, I have collected the ingredients," Snape snapped, drawing Hermione back to reality. She was standing a few paces from her desk, leaning towards the cauldron containing the Love Potion.

Hermione blushed. "Sorry."

Muttering what sounded like 'imbecile' under his breath, he started the potion. Hermione helped slice some of the ingredients, and Snape grudgingly approved of her work. They worked in silence, offering no words unless it was to ask for a certain ingredient. Hermione was pleasantly surprised with her old potions professor's subtle warmth, as he would wordlessly pass her tools and ingredients before she needed to ask. Thus, Hermione's eyes were practically glued to the workspace before her, the utensils needed only a few mere inches away.

So when Hermione finally teared her eyes away to check up on how the potion was faring, her eyes widened. "What are you doing?" Hermione snapped, worry and shock clouding her mind, "There's no peppermint in the potion!"

"I'm fixing it," he muttered, scribbling something in his textbook.

And then Hermione remembered: Snape was the Half-Blood Prince. She eyed him curiously now, "How do you do that?"

Snape quirked an eyebrow, opening his mouth to speak.

"Excellent, excellent!" Slughorn interrupted, peering at their cauldron. "And what's that I smell? Mmmmm… You've added just a sprig of peppermint, haven't you? Unorthodox, but what a stroke of inspiration! Of course that would tend to counter-balance the occasional side effects of excessive singing and nose-tweaking…"

"That was all Snape—erm—Severus' idea, sir," Hermione spoke. "I just helped, honestly."

Snape just gave her an intrigued look.

After class, with two small bottles of Felix Felicis awarded to them, and Hermione received an invitation to the Slug Club—Snape was already a member by then—the future Potions Master spoke, "You're strange. Different, I mean."

Hermione stopped short, "Excuse me?"

"I originally pegged you as a bookish know-it-all. Like the Ravenclaws," he continued, oblivious of the fact that his words had caused Hermione fear. "But Ravenclaws generally have not much creativity and adhere to the instructions steadfastly. But you," he stared at her with genuine curiosity through his greasy-looking hair, "you accepted and trusted me quickly."

"Oh, now you're making me out as a Hufflepuff?" Hermione said coolly, trying not to show her anxiety. _Did he know?_

"You remind me of someone," Snape furrowed his brow in concentration. "I can't quite put my finger on it…"

A new thought dawned on him and he quickly relayed his observations, "You didn't side-up on my inventions. The Marauders certainly would have." He didn't bother to disguise his sneer.

"Really?"

"There is this jinx that's popular, 'Levicorpus,' " Snape explained bitterly, "Potter got the credit for it, but _I_ invented it."

"They aren't terrible, you know," Hermione tried to smooth things over. "I find them quite charming and funny."

"Oh, they are, when they want to be," he replied, his gaze shifting to the end of the corridor, where Lily was laughing with a group of friends. "But actually, they are vicious bullies. The lot of them. You should be careful."

"Frankly, I could say the same to you," Hermione replied bluntly. "Lily tells me you're just another Death Eater fanatic."

"I…" he stuttered.

A small part of Hermione gaped. She had managed to make the formidable Potions Master speechless.

"They're my friends," Snape said lamely.

And in that moment, Hermione felt a tugging need in her gut to save him. She didn't want to see this bashful awkward teenaged Severus become the cold and bitter man he was in her time.

"Severus, I'm not one to tell people who to hang out with, but those are _bad_ people," Hermione tried to reason with him. "Those are the type of people who go around torturing people to death. Innocent lives, Severus!" Hermione pulled up her left sleeve, showing him her 'Mudblood' scar. "This is the kind of things they do to people!"

Severus winced and looked away. "It's too late," he murmured.

"There's always another choice," Hermione persisted. "It's you who have to find it."

Severus gave her a wistful look, ignoring her persuasive words. "I figured it out. Who you remind me of."

"Who?" Hermione asked before she could stop herself.

"Lily."

Before Hermione could reply, Severus had gone, leaving her alone in front of her next class.


End file.
